Page 68 of Major Penalty

“Good,” I say, my voice a breath above a whisper.

Ares hums, his eyes never leaving mine. “I’ll give you time to recover while we’re out today.”

"Out?" I ask, the confusion clear in my voice. "I didn't know the team had plans for today."

"They don't," he says with a tilt of his head. "I do."

I blink, trying to process it. He made plans? That include me?

"You…you want to spend the day with me?" The words come out before I can stop them, and I already feel stupid for asking.

“I do,” he says—and it’s almost impossible to believe this is the same man who once pushed me away, shut me out, and warned me to stay away. And now, he's making plans for both of us? He wants to spend time with me?

I look down at myself, still in his shirt. I can feel his gum in my mouth, and I press my tongue against it, tasting the faint traces of him.

“I need to go to my room and change.” Even though something in me never wants to take his shirt off.

“I don’t see anything wrong with what you’re wearing now.” His eyes flicking down at me.

I look at my lap, at his hand resting on top of it, and feel the heat creeping into my cheeks. I can’t help the smile on my face. He is so different from just twenty-four hours ago.

“What are you reading?” I ask to distract myself from how close his hand is to my core.

He holds up the cover.

“Shirley Jackson,” I read the author out loud. A horror novel. Of course. “Fitting,” I tease.

He raises a brow at me before setting the book down.

“Go get ready, little thing.” He tilts his head toward the door. “Unless,” he adds, eyes darkening a little, “you want me to take you out just like this.”

His fingers slide up my thigh, collecting the fabric of the shirt.

“I wouldn’t mind. But I’d have to kill anyone who looks too long. Especially once they realize you’re not wearing anything underneath.”

I suck in a breath at his words and the feeling of his hand on me. I can read the word tattooed across his knuckles now in bold, gothic font. ANKH. And a small, odd-looking cross on his thumb with a loop at the top.

“So, for the sake of innocent lives, go change.” He leans back, giving me a small smile. “Florida has one last day to impress us before we head back to LA.”

The drive is quiet, the kind of silence that feels comfortable but also a little charged. The coast stretches out beside us, the light blue of the sky meeting the deeper blue of the ocean. The coastal breeze dances through my hair as Ares drives one-handed, his other hand resting on my thigh like it belongs there. He hasn’t let go of me once. Not since we left the hotel.

He’s focused, his fingers wrapped around my thigh. The same fingers that were wrapped around my throat last night, controlling and possessive. That same hand that pushed me to my limit, making me feel things I didn’t even know were possible. I press my thighs together at the thought, the ache between them still lingering. My body remembers it all—the way he moved inside me, the way he claimed me.

I glance over at him. He looks devastating. There’s a dark, effortless sexiness to him, and the way he drives, so calm and in control, only adds to it. His jaw is sharp, his gaze fixed ahead, but every now and then, his eyes flicker toward me, like he knows exactly how much I’m struggling to keep it together.

I feel this tightness in my chest, this need toconnectwith him. I still can’t believe we’re actually spending the day together. The Ares from just one week ago would’ve shut me out by now. But he’s here. And he’s taking me somewhere.

He doesn’t talk much, but our silence isn’t awkward. It’s comforting, like the quiet hum of something settling between us.

The car is a sleek black luxury rental, the kind that makes heads turn and camera phones come out. I asked where it came from, but he just said, “Told the hotel I needed a car. This is what they gave me.” Like he didn’t request the most expensive option they had, which seems exactly like what Ares Black would do. When we came downstairs earlier, the staff were already waiting for us.

Keys, bottled water, and smiles too wide to be genuine.

I press my fingers against the glass, watching the world blur past, palm trees, ocean, and sunlight bouncing off the hood.

The word surreal comes to mind again.

I’m in a dream I didn’t even know I wanted.

---